A Year of XMen
by dishcalledhaggis
Summary: Twelve months in the X-Mansion, what more do you need?
1. Champagne

Jean felt like a piece of furniture. What had been a good time with her teammates and friends in the early evening turned into pairing off, and Jean was the only one without someone to snuggle into and flirt with. When she finally couldn't stand any more five minutes before midnight, she got up from the couch and left the room, her fourth glass of champagne dangling from her fingertips.  
"Goin' ta bed already? It's not midnight," Logan lounged on the stairs, beer in hand.  
"I'm tired."  
"Sit."  
She hesitated only a second before squeezing in next to him. How their relationship could fluctuate between teammates, friends, and intense attraction, and something akin to hate in the blink of an eye was beyond Jean's logical thinking. Some days they could talk and laugh like there was nothing between them, others they couldn't be in the same room alone because God knows if they'd kiss or argue loud enough to shake the mansion's foundation.  
"How ya been."  
"You've never been one for idle chat," she remarked with amusement.  
"I'm idle; take it while I'm offering."  
"Not bad, how about you?"  
"Gettin' by," he took a swig of beer.  
"Why are you on the stairs?"  
"Felt like it," he shrugged.  
"You can join us, you know," she elbowed him with a smile on her lips.  
"I'm better alone."  
"You asked me to sit," she replied.  
"You were leavin' the party."  
"I told you I was tired."  
"Yer a bad liar," he smirked.  
"I'd rather let this pass quietly."  
"Why," he looked at her from the corner of his eye.  
Jean took a sip of her champagne. "It's silly."  
"Don't care what's silly."  
"I have no one to kiss."  
"Ah hell Jean, I'll kiss ya," he chuckled.  
Ten...nine...eight...seven...six... Their teammates chanted down the last ten seconds of the year. Logan put his arm around her back, prompting her to lean into his side, resting her arm on his muscled leg.  
FIVE...FOUR...THREE...TWO...ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!  
Their lips touched briefly, the hints of alcohol on their tongues mingled as their mouths met again, slightly open and searching.  
"Wow," she whispered.  
Logan brushed his nose against hers, pressing his mouth against hers a third time. "Stairs ain't a very comfortable place for kissin'."  
"So let's go somewhere else."  
They stood up, walking upstairs to his room. Leaving their drinks on the desk, Logan sat on his bed and pulled her onto his lap. He growled contentedly at the sweetness of her mouth and the sensation of her fingers tracing the hard muscles of his back, lavishing attention on her throat with slow kisses.  
"Fireworks," she groaned lightly.  
"Wha-" he asked, his face buried in the crook of her neck.  
"Jubliee is settin' off fireworks," she laughed, motioning toward the window.  
He lay back, tilting his head just as bright green and purple sparks flew across the sky.  
"Huh-oh shit," his amused laugh became a startled groan when Jean took advantage and bit his exposed throat.  
"Say what," she smiled.  
He growled low in his throat, abruptly pushing her off his chest.  
"Aww, don't be mad-mmmmph," her teasing was muffled as his mouth came down on hers hard.  
She hadn't made out with anyone since she was a teenager, the kind where you're so out of your mind for someone that you're nearly fighting them, trying to get so much closer than it seems possible or proper. Her heart thudded happily as she realized what that frantic feeling was in her stomach, Logan's solid hands trapped her against his broad chest.  
Laying on your side wasn't the most comfortable position, but Logan fixed that by slipping his bicep under her neck, and she wrapped a long leg around his hip as he trailed his large hand, all strength and long fingers along her thigh, pressing into the firm flesh of her ass under her clothes. Jerking toward him with a surprised groan, she dug her heel into his thigh, causing him to shift partially on top of her.  
When they finally came up for air, they were sufficently sweaty and panting.  
"Damn," he grinned.  
"How long have we been doing this," she struggled onto her elbow to look over him at the alarm clock. "Three hours," she exclaimed, falling limply on his shoulder.  
He laughed huskily as she turned to look at him, her swollen lips were turned up in a grin. "Little break?"  
She nodded gratefully, and Logan shifted pillows around to get comfortable, watching her with a smirk and heavy-lidded sleepy eyes.  
"Whatcha doin'?"  
She unclasped her bra, taking it out from under her shirt.  
"Didja have to do that," he groaned, she only laughed and returned her head to the center of his chest.  
"You could take a little more off," she snuck her hand under his shirt, teasing his skin with gentle touches.  
"My shirt, your pants," he grinned.  
"My pants are worth your shirt and your jeans."  
"Your pants, my shirt, your shirt, my pants."  
"We'll be practically naked," she looked at him incredulously.  
"That's the idea," he laughed.  
She hesitated before removing her black pants, and Logan's grin faded a little. He didn't want to make her do something she didn't want to. "You don't have to, keep your shirt on."  
She rolled her eyes and stripped her shirt off, grinning widely before tossing it in his face.  
"Okay," he pulled the shirt from his head, tossing it aside before taking off his clothes.  
For as many times that she saw Logan without a shirt on, she was unprepared seeing his fully naked body. She looked him over carefully, tracing the cut muscles with her eyes all the way down...looking for everything like a total wide-eyed virgin. She had only seen two men naked before Logan, and they were absolutely nothing like him.  
"I can put something on," he couldn't help his amused tone at her helpless expression.  
"Don't bother," she shook her head and lay down, wearing only a pair of green bikini underwear.  
She knew he wasn't the affectionate type, but he gladly formed his body to hers as he covered them both with the bed comforter, burying his face in her neck.  
"Tickles," she laughed, squirming so his facial hair scratched over her skin again. "Feels good."  
"That champagne kickin' in for ya," he chuckled.  
"Oh yeah," she muttered, sighing with contentment.  
Logan breathed a heavy sigh of his own, kissing Jean on the neck as her eyes drifted closed. "Goodnight."

Jean groaned as she woke up with a hangover, throwing an arm over her head.  
"Morning Jean," Logan mumbled.  
"Ohno, shush, quiet..." she whimpered, pressing her fingers to his lips.  
"Had too much," he whispered.  
"Yes," she covered her head with the comforter.  
"Want something for it," he rubbed her back with his fingertips.  
"You'd do that for me," her muffled voice croaked under the blanket.  
"Sure, be right back," he got out of bed, pulling on his jeans.  
A green eye peeked out from under the comforter when he returned minutes later with a large glass in hand.  
"Don't ask what it is, just drink it."  
She sat up, holding the comforter to her bare chest as she gulped down the thick liquid.  
"It's only bananas and honey," she replied with surprise.  
"Nothing gross, just wanted you to drink it without complaining," he smiled, taking the glass from her hand.  
She sank down into the bed with a grateful smile. "Thank you."  
He undressed again and got into bed next to her, brushing the hair out of her face.  
"I look like crap."  
"No, you just feel like it. Let it coat your stomach, you'll feel better."  
"I'm sorry, this isn't exactly the kind of New Year's morning you were hoping for," she smiled sheepishly.  
"Nearly naked, hungover redhead in my bed, needing me to take care of her? My best New Year's so far."


	2. Valentines

"Every year, why does it have to be every year?"  
"Holidays are like that," Storm smiled.  
"But the hearts-and the pink," Logan growled.  
"You know about this day well in advance, you don't have to be here for it," Jean gave a cool reply.  
"Why is she mad at you," Storm asked under her breath.  
"She's a woman, how do I know," Logan watched Jean leave the room.  
"Well, you must have done something."  
"You know how they are together," Betsy joined the conversation.  
"Blazing hot, iceberg cold."  
"I'm sittin' right here," Logan reminded them gruffly.  
"Yes, we know."  
"Make her happy, damn it," Storm demanded.  
"How!"  
"Figure it out for yourself, Logan!"  
"What are you gonna do, use me as a lightning rod?"  
"To start," Storm answered with a smile.

* * *

Logan muttered, walking along the hallway to his room. He hated when Jean was mad at him, and most times he had a basic idea as to why. But this instance completely evaded him. Had he said something rude, told her something she didn't want to hear? Well tough, she knew he was like that, rude, crude, and all around a loner. If she had a problem with it, she could tell him outright, or deal with it on her own. That's what he wanted, but his annoyance at not recalling the behavior that warranted her icy looks drove him to seek her out. He knocked on her door and waited.

"Jean."

There was no answer, and he smelled her inside.

"Jean, open up."

Logan wouldn't wait a third time, he opened her door to see her bent in some difficult yoga position on the floor. She opened her eyes, and stood gracefully, pulling her headphones from her ears.

"Yes?"

"Why are you mad at me, what did I do this time," he asked bluntly.

"I-" Jean was interrupted by X-Men stampeding down the hall. "We have a mission," she brushed past him.

Logan snorted and followed her to the lower levels to suit up. They didn't speak on the Blackbird, though they sat in their usual seats across from each other. Kurt glanced over from his seat behind Jean and gave Logan a questioning expression, Logan shrugged, rolling his eyes. Jean saw this and was apparently unamused, and Logan turned away, feeling like a chastized student. On their way out, Logan gave Kurt a light smack upside the head.

"Way to go Elf, make her more angry at me."

"I didn't mean anything by it, Logan."

"I don't even know what I did," he muttered, looking into the dark forest.

"Well, have you had a fight?"

"No, we've barely been able to talk...oh, that's it."

"She's angry because you _haven't_ talked?"

"Kurt, remember New Year's, what I told ya," Logan gave him a suffering look.

"Oh! Well...what are you gonna do about it?"

"Talk to her from now on?"

"Good luck trying to get that to happen," Kurt muttered, seeing her pair off with Storm.

* * *

"It isn't like he _meant _to not talk to you. He's just...Logan," Storm then cussed as her hair got caught in a tree branch.

"I know that, now I just feel stupid snapping at him at all, makes me look so silly."

"You like him, stupid happens when you like someone."

"Thanks Oro," Jean gave her a sarcastic smile.

"I try to help where I can, oh blast it-the guys got there first," Storm sighed.

"Well, they can't have all the fun," Jean smiled, running into the fray.

* * *

Jean delivered a kick to the face of the man she had been grappling with, turning and crashing into a solid expanse of leather-clad chest.

"Hey," Logan smirked at her.

She turned, seeing the man that had snuck up on her, skewered on Logan's claws.

"Thanks," she panted.

"Don't mention it," he retracted the claws and the man slumped to the ground. "Let's get back, Red. We nearly left without you," he took her hand in his and pulled her along, catching a glimpse of her smile in the dark.


	3. The Pub

"Now this is a holiday I can get behind," Logan grinned at Jean as she removed her jacket.

"I am oh-so-shocked," she rolled her eyes, waving to the table that called for them when they entered the pub.

Jean made her way straight to their friends, while Logan arrived in his own good time, with a tall drink in each hand.

"Here," he sat one in front of Jean, who eyed him curiously.

"Up for a game, Logan," Warren shouted over from the dartboards.

"Sure."

Betsy leaned over the table with a smile. "So?"

"It's not a date."

"Why not," Betsy frowned.

"Because we aren't dating, that's why."

"It may not be the brand of dating you're used to, but he's dating you."

"How do you figure," Jean asked with her eyebrow quirked.

"He's dressed nicer than usual, he drove you here all alone while the rest of us crammed into the SUV, bought you a drink and went to get some liquid courage into his system."

"And encouraging me to do the same," Jean inspected the glass and took a sip of Killian's Irish Red.

"Theyll come back once the other fellas here see we're unguarded," Ororo added, smiling to a rugged-looking man in a white button-up shirt.

"So drink up, we've got men to flirt with," Betsy encouraged, watching Jean drink down half of her beer.

There was something about beer and rowdy Irish music that got anyone into a good mood. It made total strangers friends and family, at least for an evening.

"Lass, ya have to dance wi' me," the man in the white shirt smiled at Ororo, pulling her to her feet.

"I'm with some people," she spoke with a bashful smile.

"Oh go on, Ro!"

"How many times are ya gonna have a go 'round with real Irish," Jean shouted over the music.

"They have a point," he smiled.

"Have fun with Paddy," Jean laughed.

"I'm James," he shouted in repsonse.

"We'll just call you Clover," Betsy yelled, taking Ororo's drink from her hand.

Jean and Betsy toasted each other with new tall glasses of beer as they watched Clover lead Ororo out onto the crowded wooden floor in front of the band.

"Now, James has got his girl for the evening," a new person flipped the chair around sat at Ororo's place.

"We think you both need some company as well," the other friend sat next to Betsy.

"And who might you be, other than friends of Clover?"

"George, and this is Jonathan."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm Jean," Jean laughed as George kissed her hand.

"Elizabeth," Betsy answered with a sly smile.

"Pretty names for pretty lasses."

"Ah, away on with ya," Jean smiled.

"Could never lie to the likes of ya, a redser like ya might be a witch," George grinned.

"Have ta be, with their men leavin' 'em alone," Jonathan agreed.

"Are you making trouble."

Jean looked up at Logan with a smile. "Mm-hmm."

"Ya fecked up our luck, Jon!"

"Well that is my specialty," Jonathan shrugged.

Jean stood up and gave Logan a kiss, giggling as he pulled her closer.

"Fancy they're at it most the time," George joked.

"You have no idea," Betsy grinned.

"Have a good night, vixen. I see your man headin' over," Jonathan kissed Betsy's cheek and hauled off George with him.

Jean sat on Logan's lap, leaning into his chest.

"Having a good time."

"Yeah, you?"

"Better now that I got you to myself," Logan smirked.

"Could have had me all night."

Logan grinned. "Wanted to give these guys a shot at gettin' turned down."

"You're so kind," she draped her arm around his broad shoulders.

"You're drunk."

"Lil bit," she laughed.

"Wanna go," Logan asked.

"Nope, still feel good."

"Alright."


	4. April Showers

Jean stuck her head into the rec room where the students were arguing over video games. A few consecutive afternoons of rain had kept the team from kicking the kids outdoors, and even the students were feeling some cabin fever.

"American Idol!"

"Rock Band!"

"Hey, guys I know the rain is driving you all crazy…" Jean tried to speak up.

"Idol!"

"Rock Band!"

"How about both," Jean suggested, holding up her hands as more than eight loudmouths tried to plead their cases at once.

A shrill whistle made them all stop and slap their hands over their ears in pain. Jean turned to see Logan standing in the doorway with a scowl.

"Easy on the telepath, it's not enough she can read you, let alone yellin' at her," Logan growled.

"Thanks Logan," she smiled.

The corners of his mouth turned up and he continued on his way.

"As soon as you leave, the girls will take over," Josh explained, getting an elbow from Kitty.

"Then I'll stay and make sure you're all being fair," Jean replied, taking a seat on the couch. "Flip for the first round."

The girls won, and took turns going through the songs, the best coming from Rogue who sang 'Alone' by Heart. Even the guys seemed to be having fun watching while they waited for their turn.

They traded off for awhile very amicably, until Rogue stuck the mic in front of Bobby's nose.

"Why don't you try."

"You think I won't," he smiled.

"So go for it."

"Bobby stood up and gave Rogue a dirty look as the music started.

"Ah took the liberty of choosin' for ya."

"Nice," Kitty laughed.

"_If we took a holiday, ooh yeah, took some time to get away…"_ Bobby sang, much too enthusiastically, breaking out some over-the-top dance moves.

Jean wiped her eyes as the song ended, having laughed herself into hysterics.

"Now your turn," Bobby held the mic out to Jean while the guys hooked up the guitars and drums..

"Oh no, I'm just the referee here."

"You laugh, you're a participant."

"Try it, Jean, its fun," Kitty encouraged.

Jean left her spot on the couch, taking the mic from Bobby. Trying to pull a fast one, he thought Jean wouldn't know Maps by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. She could never have pulled off singing Heart, but this was just perfect for her.

"_Wait, they don't love you like I love you…wait, they don't love you like I love you…"_

Kitty nudged Bobby in the side with a triumphant smile.

"Not bad for an unhip old lady," Jean asked Bobby with a grin.

"Not bad…" Bobby smiled, amused that he hadn't expected her to know the song.

Logan cleared his throat, everyone chuckling at the look he gave Jean. Usually it was the kind of look that was earned by the kids doing something he disapproved of, but his eyes held a bit of surprise and amusement in them.

"What," she asked.

"I don't really know," he replied.

"How about you try," she teased.

He snorted and made his escape, Jean grinned as she ran after him.

"Oh come on, Logan. It's just for fun," she followed him into the kitchen.

"I don't have 'fun'," he gave her a knowing look, reaching into the fridge.

"Sure you don't," she leaned against the countertop.

Logan popped the cap on his beer and smirked at her, "Didn't know you could sing."

"I can't."

"You just did," he replied.

"It was a song anybody could sing to, even tone deaf people," she smiled.

"I liked it."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mm-hmm," he grinned, leaning in to kiss her.

"Jean, Scott and Betsy are taking over the game!"

Jean sighed, breaking away.

"Let 'em kill each other, the house will be quiet," he joked.

"I'll tell them you said that," she laughed.


	5. Monkey Suit

Logan felt like he was suffocating, but that he could deal with. What he couldn't deal with was the fact that this mission included him dressing in a tuxedo. He fought with Jean for a good two hours while she tried to convince him that jeans and a leather jacket weren't "appropriate attire".  
"It's only one night, Logan!"  
Somewhere in the disgrunted muttering, she heard him finally agree to it and stalk off to the bathroom for a shower. Possibly to attempt drowning himself to get out if it.  
Jean narrowly avoided poking herself in the eye with the liner pencil as Logan came out of the bathroom in a towel.  
"Need better light," she cleared her throat and turned herself and the small mirror so she wasn't distracted by a nearly naked Logan, beads of water running from his chest down to the towel hung low on his hips...  
"You okay," he asked as she started coughing.  
"Fine," she gasped, accepting the glass of water from him with her eyes firmly set on the desk.  
When she calmed herself by guzzling the whole glass and finished her makeup, she skirted the hotel room to get dressed, passing Logan who was staring down at the tux on the bed as if they were enemies that were trying to make a deal.  
"It's not going to bite."  
"I know," he snapped.  
"But you obvisouly will," she laughed, closing the door before he could reply.  
Jean removed the robe and stepped into the gown, zipping it up with minimal breathing in, though the corset top and close fit would take care of that pesky breathing the rest of the night. She smiled at herself in the mirror, the light gold color warmed her cool features. Stepping into delicate low heels, she opened the door and was gleefully picturing Logan looking something like a trained chimp when she walked out on a completely different picture.  
He wasn't fully dressed yet, but what he had on was enough to make Jean gawk at him, standing in front of the closet mirror with suspenders hanging from the black pants and a crisp white undershirt stretched across his chest and back.  
Logan looked up, turning to slowly inspect every inch of the dress with particular admiration.  
"I'm almost finished."  
"Don't rush," she reassured him, busying herself with putting the essentials into her small handbag.  
That took little time and all the while she was staring at Logan, who had just slipped the shirt on and was buttoning it up.  
"I'm sure I did this at some point, but could ya-" he held the tie out to her.  
"Yes," she replied automatically, standing close to him as her arms went around his neck.  
He tried to be subtle as he smelled the perfume warming on her skin, but the impatient shift from foot to foot had him good as caught. Sitting down to put on socks and shoes, she grabbed the jacket and held it out to him.  
"What," he looked up as he felt her eyes moving over him.  
"Nothing," she smiled, grabbing her matching wrap.

* * *

"I feel like the damn Phantom of the Opera."  
"He wore a mask and a cape, and you don't sing. You look like a feral child trying to be introduced to humans, stop messing," she pushed his hand down as he tried tugging the tie loose.  
"I can't breathe."  
"Makes two of us," she smiled.  
"Does this really do it for ya?"  
"What," she asked, trying to find a good mind in the crowd to search for information on the Mutant "cure vaccine".  
"The tux, you like your guys all dressed up?"  
"You're not mine," she smiled.  
"That's not true."  
Her cheeks flushed, and she turned her head to take a sip of the champagne in her glass.  
"You want me to be this kinda guy?"  
"Of course not. It's just interesting to see you in something different."  
He contemplated that for awhile, giving Jean the chance to break away from him for a few moments and chat up prospective insiders. When he joined her again, he seemed to be a little less uncomfortable.  
"What changed," Jean whispered.  
"It's only one night," he smirked.  
"Because I like it," she corrected, stifling a laugh as he put his arm around her waist.

* * *

Jean reached over in the cab and pulled the tie and first button loose.  
"I want to get out of these clothes," he grumbled.  
"I know what you mean."  
As they walked through the quiet lobby, Logan had to take hold of Jean's arm when she turned the wrong way. Maybe it was the champagne going to her head, but with each step she grew very hot and disoriented.  
"What's wrong."  
"It's too hot," she complained as the elevator doors closed.  
Leaning against the wall, she felt the floor fall out from under her. Her drop to the floor halted suddenly as Logan wrapped his arms around her waist.  
"Jeannie."  
"It's the dress," she mumbled, smiling up at his face before her head dropped onto his chest, passed out cold.  
Coming to was never a pleasant experience, Jean's head swam as her eyes focused on the hotel ceiling.  
"Logan?"  
"You passed out," his voice came from somewhere in front of her.  
Then she felt his hand to the side of her breast, pulling the zipper open. She managed to flail helplessly, her clumsy fingers scrabbling to try and stop him.  
"You said it yourself, it was the dress."  
"I can undress myself," she insisted.  
"Don't get worked up, I'm just tryin' ta help ya out."  
He surprised her by pulling the dress away without being rough.  
"You didn't take off my shoes."  
"You didn't pass out because of the shoes," he grinned, laying her dress over the armchair.  
Jean kicked her shoes off and tested her shaky legs as Logan pulled off his jacket. He froze in a tense pose as her fingers pulled the suspenders off his shoulders and freed the buttons, but a smile tugged at his lips as she untucked his shirt from the pants.  
"So you really like this," he laughed gruffly as she pushed him back to the bed.


	6. Fighting Blind

"Jean, do you trust me?"

"Of course I do, Logan."

"You trust me to be angry, to get a mission done. But you don't trust me to stick around."

"Can you blame me for being cautious," Jean asked.

"I can't, but my leaving back then had nothing to do with you. It was for me, to learn about myself. Don't keep me at arm's length because I had to do that."

"I don't keep you at arm's length, Logan," she kept her voice neutral.

"We spend time together, you invite me into your bed...but every time I walk into a room you still looked surprised to see I'm here," Logan crossed his arms over his chest.

"What do you want from me, Logan!"

"I want you to trust me, damnit!"

Jean jumped at his raised tone.

_Finally something other than casual detachment. Good._

"You...you have any ideas then?"

Logan reached into his back pocket, unfolding a slim black piece of material in his hands. Jean let out a startled laugh when she realized what it was.

"Mind out of the gutter, woman," even he smiled despite the underlying tension.

"I'm sorry," she pressed her lips together. "So tell me..." Jean snickered.

"Jean," he warned lightly.

"Out of my system," she replied, though her eyes were sparkly with amusement.

Logan moved behind her chair. "Close your eyes."

A smile barely twitched her lips as she did as he asked.

"Too tight?"

"No, just right," her hands twisted in her lap.

"I don't think I have to tell you powers aren't allowed."

"Well damn, this just got a lot harder," she joked dryly. "Let me guess this doesn't come off until you know I trust you."

"Not quite. If this runs into days, it can come off to shower."

"Some people may think this as cruel and unusual treatment," she teased.

"They haven't spent time with you yet," he chuckled.

Jean had been getting her bearings, and swung out to smack him, swiping air.

"Missed."

She jumped up not judging her distance well and nearly crashed face first onto the floor if Logan's reflexes weren't as good as thy were.

"This is gonna be a long and very painful process," Jean muttered.

"Only if you make it that way."

The next two hours, did not get much better. Jean second-guessed his directions and subsequently smacked itno everything.

"Logan..." she spoke with her teeth clenched, bent over as she rubbed her shin.

"You should be thanking me."

"The phrase I'm thinking of it not 'thank you'. I need to go to the bathroom."

"Five steps straight ahead, and turn sharp right."

Jean walked as if her spine were fused, hands clenched at her sides. Once closed in the bathroom, she sat on the counter and tried to remember not to lash out to hit something, lest she hurt herself. She too had a temper, but hers was held in tight control at all times.

"Jean?"

"I'll be there in a minute," she snapped.

"You all right," Logan asked when she stopped beside him.

"Is this just something you make up as you go along, or are you purposefully leading me into tables and doorways?"

"Let's go," Logan walked away without taking her hand.

"You know what, you have to come halfway for me, too! I'm willing to try, but you're leading me around like this is any other training exercise! Our relationship is not training for battle."

"Woman, sometimes with you it is..."

"I'm asking for you to help me, Logan," she stuck out her hand, waiting.

Logan reached out, letting her follow the touch of his fingertips until she was firmly gripping his hand.

"Now, where are we going?"

"The gym."

"You are trying to kill me," she sighed.

"Remember what I said about our relationship not being a training exercise," she asked, hoping she was facing Logan as her lips twisted into a smirk.

"I remember."

"These trust things are supposed to be 'catch me when I fall' and lead me through the woods so that I don't hurt myself, and allow you to do things for me I don't usually let you."

"Trust me on this."

"I'm trying," she felt her palms become sweaty.

"Attack me," he rested his hands on her hips, speaking into her ear.

"Can do!"

She jabbed her elbow back into his ribs, smirking as he grunted. But soon he backed away, leaving her tilting her head, trying to hear his movement on the mat. He flattened her back to the floor in a move that stole her breath away.

"I don't...see...how this is building trust between us," she staggered to her feet.

The next noise, however, she couldn't mistake.

_Snikt._

"Oh come on..."

"Come at me," he ordered.

"Where are you?"

"In front of you," he replied.

"You have your claws out."

"Come at me."

"You could hurt me," she replied.

"I wouldn't do that."

"You want me to attack you blind, with your claws out, so you could possibly shishkebab me!?!"

"Go."

Jean swallowed, and charged him. She felt the air behind the slashes he made, trying not to think about the deadly blades housed in his forearms. Ducking under another blow, he swept her legs out from under her, making her fall heavily onto the mat. Feeling his heavy footsteps, she waited.

"What are you going to do now?"

She swept his feet out from under himself and sat on him, grabbing both wrists and pinning them above his head.

"Did I pass?"

"Let me up, and I'll take off the blindfold."

Jean sat back, and blinked as the gym lights seemed way too bright.

"I really don't see how that was a test that I trusted you, Logan."

"Bein' with you makes me feel like I'm fighting blind. I just wanted you to know how it feels, now knowing."

Jean cradled his head in her hands, kissing him gently.

"Just reaching for my hand would have been enough, but I wanted to see how far you'd go," he smirked.

Jean punched him lightly.

"You will pay for this, Logan...one day, I will have my revenge."


	7. I've Got A Bad Feeling About This

Ya know, I don't have anything on under these."  
"Then keep them on. Didn't Jubliee get you those board shorts?"  
"Yeah."  
"So put those on," she grinned to herself, Logan did not wear shorts.  
"Save my seat."  
"Sure thing," she replied, unclasping her top.  
He went inside to change, and snuck up to her chair, pulling the bikini top out from under her in one swift movement.  
"Logan!"  
"This," he dangled her top just out of reach, "is for the Chewbacca comment."  
"Give it," she held her towel to her chest with one hand and reached for her top with the other.  
"I'm thinkin'...no," he laughed, and took a running dive into the pool.  
He surfaced and splashed the back of her legs.  
"You cocky bastard," she muttered, sitting back on her heels.  
"You have no idea," he held out her top.  
She adjusted one arm over her breasts and dropped the towel, using her hair to further conceal her topless state. Holding out her hand, he pulled his away, balling the top up in one fist.  
"Get in."  
She sighed and took the long way to the stairs, wading over to him.  
"Please."  
"Ask nicer," he held his hand over his head.  
"Please, Logan," she tried to grab for his hand, he traded it into the other.  
"Tell me you want me," he grinned.  
"Ugh, this is not funny," she watched him trade her top from hand to hand, and got so caught up in getting it back that she reached up with both hands.  
"Hey guys," Warren paused at the open back door.  
"Oh God, don't embarrass me please," she whispered, grateful that Logan wrapped one arm around her and held her against his chest instead of leaving her topless.  
"Hey Warren," Logan grinned back, Jean ducked under Logan's arm and hid behind his back, trying to pry his fingers open.  
Logan smacked her hand away.  
"Can I have it back now?"  
"Well...Warren did see us lookin' pretty friendly."  
"Yes, it'll do wonders for your ego," she tried getting his left hand open.  
"Now when you get insulting like that," he opened both fists, which were empty.  
"Where is my top?"  
"I don't know, whoa-careful darlin'," he laughed as she jammed her hands into his pockets.  
"Help me with this," she insisted, turning away as she covered herself.  
Logan closed the clasp, letting his hands linger on her back.  
"There will be none of that," she darted away.  
"You aren't supposed to make sudden movements with wild animals," he grinned.  
"Will you stop with that wild animal-PUT ME DOWN," she shouted as he swept her up in his arms.  
"Okay," he dropped her into the pool.  
She came up out of the water coughing.  
"See? A little innocent touching doesn't seem so bad now," he laughed, getting a face full of pool water in reply.  
"Innocent touching, my ass!"  
"Now you've got the right idea," he took a step toward her.  
"I'm getting out now," she lay her palms flat on the edge of the concrete and pushed herself up.  
"Don't do that," he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her back down.  
"Why," she rested her chin on her arms.  
He shrugged, Jean turned to face him with a smile on her lips.  
"What."  
She stood up, kissing him deeply. Logan stepped closer as her arms went around his neck, holding her head in his hands.  
"I'm gonna burn," she smiled, slipping away to the stairs.  
Logan watched her with a satisfied smile.  
"Hmm, I don't think I'll fit in these."  
"What-" his question stuck in his throat as Jean stood next to her chair holding his shorts up to her body.  
He looked down and laughed. "Okay, give 'em back."  
She tossed the shorts over her shoulder and looked back at him with a grin as she headed inside.  
"No."

* * *

"So, what happened then," Betsy leaned forward with a grin.  
"Got my top back."  
"And then?"  
"What then, there was no then," Jean replied.  
"Did ya kiss him?"  
"I'd just as soon kiss a Wookie," she muttered.  
"You know it's funny you say that, Jean," Logan came into the living room with a mocking grin.  
"Why is it funny," Betsy asked.  
Logan leaned over Jean's shoulder, making her shift on the couch.  
"Because she did kiss a Wookie, called me Chewy and everything."  
"Oh, really!"  
"And to top that, she stole my shorts."  
"Jean!"  
"He was asking for it," she chuckled.  
"I want those back."  
"Apologize for taking my top."  
"Can't," he shook his head.  
"Why not?"  
"Cause I meant to do it, and I enjoyed it," he grinned.  
"How'd you get out of the pool without anyone seeing," Betsy asked with a calculating smile.  
"He ran like hell," Jean laughed, rolling her eyes as he flopped down next to her.  
"I walked, very casually up to my room and nobody said anything," he sat there looking very smug as Jean and Betsy laughed.  
"You did not!"  
"I wouldn't lie," he chuckled.  
"It's true," Warren looked kind of pained to admit it as he passed by.  
"Okay, for that you deserve your shorts back," Jean went up to her room.  
"Hey Lizzie, do me a favor."  
"Don't call me 'Lizzie' and you got it," Betsy smiled back.  
"Beat it."  
"Sure thing," Betsy got up and went off to look for Warren. Scarred boys were easy prey.  
Jean came in, and looked at Logan with an arched eyebrow.  
"Finally alone," he smirked.  
She threw the shorts at him.  
"Anything else you want to take off," he gestured to the clothes he was wearing.  
"I saw enough the other day," she smirked.  
"The water was cold."  
"I am not having this conversation with you," she pressed a hand to her forehead.  
"Yeah, you are."  
"Well it's over now," she sat next to him.  
He leaned in close, "but you're still thinkin' it."  
"Get off," she elbowed him with a blush.  
"I'm not on you yet."  
Jean would have slapped him, but she was still amused by his forwardness.  
"Yet?"  
"This is not going to end up with me naked and you with my clothes, not again."  
She laughed quietly.  
"You kissed me," he smiled.  
"So?"  
"Means you don't hate me as much as you think you do."  
"I don't hate you."  
"No?"  
"You're...frustrating."  
"So are you," he leaned in again.  
"I know that."  
"So let's frustrate each other."  
"What kind of line is that?"  
"It's a funny one," he replied hesitantly, so much for knowing women.  
"It didn't really work for me," she shook her head.  
"What will work?"  
"What's the fun in that?"  
"Good point," he pressed his mouth to hers, again and again until her hand came to rest on the back of his neck.


	8. Field Trip

Field trips were always a welcome thing in Xavier's Mansion. It helped many of the students to mingle in public and just be children for the day, not having to think too much on how different they were. If it weren't for Jean's sensitive mind, she wouldn't be able to tell the difference of one adolescent from their own.  
Storm, Kurt, Betsy, and Logan stood among parents and other teachers, ready to step in at the first sign of trouble. Under Logan's eye, the kids didn't dare get out of line, which was why Jean asked for him to come along. All the better if the day went off without incident. The only problem at present seemed to be Logan, whose unique look had some of the parents on edge. With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she walked over to Logan, smiling at the other adults so that the blood rushed to their faces as they looked away.  
"I can handle myself," he muttered.  
"Of course you can," she replied, getting the students to move along with a gentle thought.  
Logan followed her into the next room, snorting as she looked at the caveman display. With her hands clasped behind her as usual, she looked over her shoulder at him with an obvious smile.  
'Not funny,' he mouthed.  
"Yes it is.'  
He heard her quiet laugh across the room to prove her point.

Jean stood at the back of the dark planetarium, gazing up at the ceiling as the recorded voice told the history of the heavens.  
"You might as well say I'm older than dirt," Logan whispered into her ear.  
"Are you," she smiled.  
She knew without looking at him that his jaw twitched with annoyance, and leaned toward him breathing in deeply.  
"What are you doing."  
"At least you don't smell like dirt."  
"You still think I'm old," he scoffed.  
"Only as old as you feel," Jean pressed her lips to his throat.  
"Shouldn't you be trying to keep the kids from doing just this," he smirked.  
"We obviously do not apply to that," Jean pushed Logan into the planetarium foyer where it was pitch black.  
They fumbled around in the dark, her skirt hiked up around her ass as she wrapped her leg around his waist. He massaged her thigh roughly, letting out a groan when her mouth landed on a sensitive spot on his neck. His fingertips touched the lace of her underwear and pushed her against the bulge in his jeans when she stopped unbuttoning his shirt.  
"It can't be over already," she muttered.  
"What."  
The lights began to come on and they broke apart, putting themselves back together.  
"A little warning would have been nice," he sighed, looking down at himself.  
"I lost track of time," she smiled, smoothing her skirt down.  
"Easy for you."  
Jean glanced down at him and sighed with disappointment, and then looked toward the door.  
"Where are you goin'?"  
"If neither of us are there, someone is gonna come looking for us."  
"Jean, I'm really in a bad way here."  
"I didn't do this on purpose."  
"C'mon, stay a lil longer."  
"Where? People are going to come through here any minute now."  
"Use your freaky stuff," he insisted impatiently.  
"Freaky stuff? Metal-skeleton-and-claws tells me to use my freaky stuff."  
"Shut up and do it."  
The footsteps of people came toward them, and Jean made her and Logan seem like something so unimportant, that even their teammates and students didn't look at them. Jean and Logan stood still until the door closed again, leaving them in darkness.  
"What will we tell them when we have to catch up later?"  
"We had to finish up," he grinned.  
"Logan."  
"I'll tell them it's my fault, I tried to get you to play hooky," he slipped his arm around her waist.  
"Well it is," she tried not to grin.  
"You helped."  
Jean trailed her fingers down his shirt, and he turned so she was up against the wall this time.


	9. Football

The occupants of Xavier's mansion stoof out on the backyard picking teams. It had been awhile since they did something fun together, so Bobby's request for a touch football game seemed like a good way to let off steam.  
"I get Jean," Bobby called first off, knowing she was horribly competitive.  
Logan watched them from the doorway of the dining room, arms crossed over his chest.  
"Logan will play."  
"There's a sentence I never thought I'd hear," Jean smiled.  
"I will not."  
"C'mon, the teams are uneven," Kitty pleaded.  
"When have I ever played?"  
"Never. Just this one time?"  
"Leave him alone, Bobby. He's not fun like the rest of us," Scott threw his arm around Jean's shoulder, who shrugged it off.  
"You're fun like a doctor's appointment," she muttered, making Kitty giggle.  
Hearing Jean's reply to Scott improved his mood. The way Scott went on about Jean, you would think that they were already moving into the same room. Jean was almost as private as Logan, so he was relieved to see that she didn't favor him. All the better for Logan to make his interest known, should he be inclined to stay. He supposed it couldn't hurt to join in this once, if anything just to get things started with Jean.  
"Fine, I'll do it."  
"We've got Logan," Bobby grinned like a lunatic.  
"Look good in that jersey," he spoke to Jean with a husky tone to his voice, eyeing the New York Jets jersey she wore.  
"Thanks," she grinned, stuffing a blue bandanna in his back pocket.  
The game started out playful enough, grabs for the bandannas missed and laughed off. But soon Logan could smell the determination in the light sweat of the team, making the plays harder, the field larger.  
Bobby's team was up 5 to 2, and he saw Jean wide open and threw the ball. Scott took off after her, and so did Logan. Easily cutting Scott off, the burly Canadian followed close behind.  
"I got it," Jean shouted, looking over her shoulder. Catching the football cleanly she ran through the trees that were markers for the goal line, turning with a happy grin. Then she saw Logan coming, too fast to stop.  
They fell into a heap on the grass.  
"Jean, you okay?"  
"You don't tackle your own team!"  
"You okay," Logan asked gruffly.  
"I'm good," she grinned. "You might want to get off me now."  
"Oh," he backed off, helping her sit up.  
"Hank's gonna take a look at you," Scott announced as if she had a head injury.  
"I'm fine guys. Let's play," she stood up and messed up Logan's hair playfully.  
Scott scowled at the affectionate touch, and Logan grinned.


	10. Halloween

Logan was having a perfectly acceptable time holding up the wall, waiting for Betsy to come and relieve him from chaperone duty. Parties were not his thing, he avoided them at all costs...and yet here he was, the scariest thing these kids would ever come across tonight, scowling for all it was worth.  
"Okay Logan, here I am," Betsy slunk up next to Logan looking every bit like Catwoman, right down to the face mask and full body-molded suit.  
"Took you long enough."  
"And you are going as...Pony Boy maybe," she replied in a snarky tone. "Latex and revenge, Logan. These things take time."  
"Still mad at Warren," he smirked.  
"And I intend to make him suffer, greatly."  
"I think it's workin'."  
"Good," she grinned, something bright sparkly red catching her attention as it moved through the crowd. "Would you look at that, a half-naked fireball."  
"Really," Logan replied, the half-naked fireball was Jean.  
Her costume was nothing more than a filmy nightgown and a ton of red and gold glitter artfully swirled over her skin.  
"You can go now," Betsy reminded him.  
"Uh huh," he muttered.  
"Or you could stay."  
He grunted something, his eyes stuck on Jean as she flitted through the crowd.  
"See something you like?"  
"Betsy," he growled.  
"Yes, Logan."  
"Go play with Warren."  
"All that frustration can't be good for you," she commented with a sly grin.  
"Very funny, now move along."  
"I guess she must really be a fireball," she watched his face contort in confusion.  
"What?"  
"You're sweating."  
He knew perfectly well he was sweating, it took all his self-restraint to stay in control.  
"I gotta get outta here," he muttered, making no move to leave.  
"Ya might look less creepy if you just join in."  
"Saywhat."  
"Join in," she shrugged, heading over to the crowd.


	11. Tequila

The women of the mansion passed around the bottle of amber-colored liquid in the rec room. Kitty was upside down in the chair starting to feel a little floppy as she chomped on a banana-flavored sucker, Ororo and Rogue were tangled up comfortably on the couch, raven-haired Betsy sat on the floor with her head next to Kitty's-right side up of course, and Jean had one leg draped over the arm of the chair she lounged in.  
"I still don't think we should have given Kitty any tequila, she's only twenty," Ororo reasoned.  
"She's at home, it's better we teach her how than let one of the boys get her drunk," Jean waved a nonchalant hand, bare foot bouncing idly.  
"How you feelin' Kit," Betsy asked, resting her head against Kitty's.  
"I feel...floaty and...this is a really good sucker!"  
"Did we get her drunk or high," Rogue's southern drawl started to sound a little long.  
"Where did you get this anyway?"  
"Under Logan's bed," Jean smiled.  
Betsy nearly spit out a mouthful of liquor, her eyes suddenly bulging as if she had a bomb in her mouth with five seconds left on the detonator clock.  
"It's a good thing he's out of town," Ororo laughed.  
"He'll know you were in there," Kitty warned, giving Jean an upside-down disapproving glare.  
"Enjoy your life while you still have it," Rogue toasted the air in Jean's direction before she drank.  
"Oh, he'll yell and growl, but he'll be picturing me naked the whole time," she snickered.  
The rec room erupted in laughter. It was no secret Logan had a strong attraction to Jean.  
"Are you ever gonna let him take you to bed," Ororo asked slyly, her silver-white hair falling out of the bun Kitty had twisted it into.  
"I don't like him like that," she muttered.  
"She wants to," Betsy shouted needlessly. "Look at her face!"  
"Slow down there, BetsyBoop," Kitty hiccuped.  
"I think she's scared," Storm teased.  
"What do I have to be scared of?"  
"Tell me, Roro," Betsy hobbled over on her knees, whispering with Storm like teenagers.  
"Conspiracy," Rogue made cat claws with her fingers.y," Jean threw a pillow at the two gossip mongers, hitting Betsy in the back of the head."Hey!"  
"I don't blame her, poor girl," Betsy tutted, taking a drink from the beer on the coffee table.  
"Why," Jean demanded.  
"You're a control freak, hon."  
Kitty pulled the sucker from her mouth with an audible 'pop' just to make a whip cracking sound, wrist movement and all.  
"Are you calling me a prude?"  
"Well...you like to be in control," Ororo continued, her gentle tone conflicted with the amusement in her dark eyes.  
"On top," Betsy laughed, whacking her head on Rogue's booted foot.  
"Just because he gets to you like no other, you can't keep turning him down. He may be wild, but he is also just a man."  
"They've got ah point, Jeannie," Rogue pointed out.  
"Am I cold," she asked curiously.  
The four women gave each other loaded glances.  
"You shut him down awful quick," Rogue admitted.  
"He could be big, and that would definitely be scary," Betsy grinned lopsidedly.  
Kitty and Rogue covered their ears, groaning as if the older women wanted to give them 'The Talk'. However, Jean's distraught expression became a wicked grin, trying to hide it with a dainty sip from the bottle.  
"Jean, tell!" Betsy demanded, slapping her hands over Kitty's already covered ears.  
"He cornered me the afternoon he left."  
"And?"  
"Kissed me," she shrugged.  
"Yeah," Ororo and Betsy were leaning forward, eyes glittering for juicy dirt.  
"Backed me up against the wall and-he was very excited," she almost purred.  
"Impressive?"  
"Ohyeah."  
"Then what ARE you waiting for?"  
"Cause I can," she laughed.  
"Jean, c'mon," Betsy rolled her eyes.  
"I'll screw him as soon as he comes home, okay?"  
"YES!"  
The front door opened, and the girls all scrambled for the rec room door.  
"Awwww, it's just the guys," Kitty pouted.  
"Love you too, Kitty," St. John taunted in return, giving his lighter a flick.  
Kurt, Warren, Bobby, and St. John muscled their way into the room uninvited.  
"Is this what your movie nights always turn into? Where's the movies, anyway? I thought you were going to watch The Way We Were and swoon over Hubble," Bobby looked around, pausing as everyone stared at him strangely. "What?"  
"We were hoping to get Jean laid," Betsy snuggled into Warren's side.  
"She needs it," Warren replied with a snicker.  
"Okay, boys out," Jean gave them all a mental nudge.  
"Hey!"  
"We saw Logan on our way home," Kurt smiled as they gave up and left with some dignity intact.  
"Oooooh," the girls looked to Jean.  
"What," she squirmed in her seat.  
"You said you would."  
"Kurt is just messing with me, pass the bottle."  
They went back to drinking, only a few minutes passed as the deafening rumble of Logan's motorcycle met their ears.  
"Oh no," Jean slouched in her seat, covering her face with both hands.  
"Loosen up those buttons-" Betsy sang, pulling her tank top strap off for emphasis.  
"Jean's gonna get it now!"  
"Literally," they chorused, falling over themselves with tipsy giggles.  
"What you ladies doin'?"  
They all grinned like cats that got the canary...all except Jean, who regarded Logan with a cool expression.  
"Is that my tequila?"  
They all pointed to Jean, whose mouth dropped open as she tried to look shocked. He scowled, striding right up to the redhead.  
"So...you like being in my bedroom," he smirked.  
Jean was speechless, swallowing hard. The girls made silent, and very suggestive gestures behind Logan's back.  
"If yer gonna drink my stash, ya could at least invite me to drink it with ya."  
"Please do," they chorused like little annoying drunk girls Jean would strangle later on when she had the chance.  
He grabbed Jean's arm, hauling her out of the chair so he could sit down, then yanked her down on his lap.  
"Here," she passed him the bottle, getting a wink from him.  
"Ah'm...gonna take Kitty to bed," Rogue smiled, getting up from the couch.  
"Night," the older Mutants called as Rogue dragged Kitty and her sucker from the room.  
"Now that the kiddos are gone," Logan grinned, running his fingers underneath Jean's shirt.  
She shifted on his lap, grinding her ass into his crotch, smiling as she heard him grunt.  
"Hand it over," Ororo held out her hand for the bottle, Logan leaned forward and pressed himself back against Jean, snaking his arm around her waist.  
"What are ya up to," he muttered into her ear, so quietly the other two couldn't hear.  
"Want to go upstairs and find out," she smiled.  
"Yer drunk."  
"Two shots, that's all I had," Jean promised.  
"If she were drunk, things would be flying all over the place," Betsy waved her beer around with a grin. And with that little statement, Betsy launched into how she and Jean got drunk for the first time, nearly killing each other with their hijinks.  
"I just needed to loosen up," Jean interrupted before Betsy could get to Jean and her dirty limerick about Logan. The redhead had made it up when she was only seventeen, and wanted it to stay back there, hidden away.  
Betsy shrugged and told Ororo, who looked at Jean with renewed respect in a mind that depraved.  
"You've turned me down so many times, I think I should do the same to ya," he took a large swig of the bottle.  
"I deserve it," she admitted.  
"You really want me," Logan stated, his eyes glinting dangerously as he sat back in the chair.  
"Yes."  
"Act like it," he challenged.  
Jean leaned against his chest, giving him a warm wet kiss. Storm and Betsy stared as Jean bit Logan's earlobe, sucking a spot on his neck.  
"You want some privacy?"  
"Don't really care," Logan growled with a distracted tone, his hand kneading Jean's thigh as his mouth dropped open from her cool hand slipping inside his open shirt.  
"Bets, I think we should-" Storm trailed off as she hauled the telepath to her feet.  
"I can't look away."  
"Well try," Ororo chuckled.


End file.
